When I say I'm totally prepared, it's all a big lie!

Most everyone is aware that my husband will be "deploying/PCS'ing" in the coming weeks for a 15 month unaccompanied tour. Least to say, for the last 4 months, I have been in complete denial. Even though I knew he was leaving, we agreed it was a great career move, we prayed over it long before he applied, I still hadn't embraced the absolute truth that he's leaving. Now that the movers are scheduled, my email is blowing up with confirmations, details etc, I just click "READ" and move onto the next email.  As I look to the next year, I am all over the place. There's this ever elusive feeling that I'm attempting to embrace, but stumbling through the emotions is all I seem to do these days. In one moment, I'm at the "hurry up and take off so we can get this over with", the next moment "please don't leave yet, I don't want you to miss _____". 

I don't know what it is about this situation that is all that different than his last deployment. Maybe it's because of the Littles and all the stuff he's going to miss Caysen's senior year of high school. I simply can't put my finger on it.  Caysen was nearly 11 yrs old and could comprehend all the details during our last deployment. Maybe it's my heart is broken that I agreed to this assignment, maybe it's just my weak, insecure heart that keeps telling me that there's no way I'll make it through this without pushing away everyone I love including John or completely falling apart in the process of trying to hold it all together. It's exhausting trying to navigate through all the feelings and I find myself nitpicking just to pick a fight. It's a heck of a lot easier to say "See ya later" if I'm mad at him. It's easier to just withdraw and not focus on the real reason I'm acting out like a toddler who has lost their favorite blankie.

When asked "what do you need?", I honestly have no answer. I have no idea what I need or what kind of support I'll need. Please don't be offended if I tell you nothing, please don't push or force me to talk about it. When I need to, I will. Fair warning,  I don't know how to ask for help or reach out and say "hey, I'm struggling" no one knows what to do when someone admits to being at their breaking point. I'm not a hugger or a crier, I don't know how to even remotely tell someone that I'm struggling. I refuse to accept defeat, and I won't fail during this time in our lives, but I'm not sure how I'll do it. Just know that when I say I'm ready for this, it's a lie. I'm not ready for my husband's belongings to be packed up and sent overseas. I'm not ready to run a household without him. I'm not ready for any of it.  I'm definitely not ready to answer the question of "when is my daddy coming home" or "why is daddy gone". I really thought I was ready. I've read all the resiliency articles. I've talked to other spouses who have endured an unaccompanied tour. I've reached out to those who know these feelings and the one commonality in all of it is; no one is ready for it. And, that feeling of not being ready is all consuming because it's happening right in front of us, and there's no changing it. Not being ready isn't an option. I want to be ready. I want to be strong and stoic, but I know myself well enough to know that my being ready will never be ready enough to face this head on. My heart hurts as we prepare for the movers to come in a couple of weeks. As we sort through our existing kitchen stuff, linens, purchase a bed, sort through clothes that he'll take and ones he'll leave behind. I have totes full of stuff for the movers to pack, and as the weeks have flown by, I sat in the floor and cried looking at this stuff because I really thought I was ready. It's not going to be easy, but they promised it would be worth it.





 

Baseball mom to Wrestling mom, say what? ? ?

For as long as I could remember, I knew I'd be a baseball mom. Caysen played ball for more than decade, and overall, I always saw him making it to the college baseball world. His passion, dedication, hours of practice and sheer love of the game really shined in our last couple of years in Florida. Those kids with NYSA were amazing, some of our best friends were baseball families and I cherish and treasure those memories. Even getting kicked out of the bleachers and banned from the fields was totally worth it. Once we got orders to TN, we knew he'd be at a serious disadvantage being the "new kid". But, we had no idea how deeply political and ridiculous the baseball world is here. I really couldn't believe all the ridiculousness that we witnessed first hand. But, we trudged through, learned some valuable life lessons and here we are 2 years later, and we're a bonafide wrestling family. 

I went into this sport EXTREMELY jaded. I had no idea how it would be for Caysen. I was entirely put off by all the funky skin, fungus, sweat, staff infections, impetigo, cauliflower ear, injuries that could happen. Well, Caysen being Caysen didn't wait long to break us into the injury world. The first match of the PRE season, he suffered a concussion, a few weeks later a sprained ankle and a dislocated jaw. Least to say, I was ready for him to throw in the towel. If it weren't for his coach, I'd put my foot down and ditch wrestling. John had to reign in the "momma" mode on several occasions. But, this last weekend, I saw a a young man take to the mats and battle it out with everything he had to qualify for the state tournament. WHAT, the WHAT? My kid going to state, first year wrestler? Yep, to say that I totally stoked for him is an understatement. Seriously, I had no idea we'd be traveling to the state tournament. 

In all of this chaos, the one monumental lesson we've all learned is that God will open the doors, and we have to be willing to walk through those doors. The doors to baseball were slammed shut time after time yet we kept opening them. He still played last summer with a travel team. He busted his hump for that team, he worked so hard, he was in a pitcher only position and pinch ran most of the season. But, nearing the end of the season his coach finally let him play left field (his other position) because of his dedication and his willingness to put in the work. I cried for him. I longed for his talent to be recognized and for him to play the sport that made him the happiest. All this time, I knew that baseball wasn't going to pan out regardless of how many lessons we paid for, regardless of who we knew or didn't know. We weren't an "in" family and didn't have tens of thousands of dollars to throw at the program to buy our kid a place on the roster. I know it happens in every state, town, league. I get it. My heart still hurt for my child.

Least to say, resiliency is very apparent in our son. He took on a completely new to him sport his junior year of high school. He will letter for his effort, dedication and his record. You know I could go on and on about how much I really hate this sport, but that would be an utter lie. I love it because he loves it. I love what wrestling has taught him. I love seeing him on the mat. I love watching him execute new moves flawlessly, and above all, I love watching him and Coach Hampshire talk after a win or a loss. I love watching him grow as a young man because he's chasing after something that brings him true happiness. To see him happy is my ultimate goal, to protect him in pursuit of that happiness is my job. This summer, he will be traveling to Georgia for a 10 day wrestling camp with some of the most elite wrestlers in the country. We can't wait to see where this path leads us all!